You Can Share My Blanket
by gentlewinnix
Summary: Lew is diagnosed with anxiety, and Dick finds small ways to support him. Winnix.


**Author's Note:** Kicking off my Winnix Fluff Challenge with something a little bit different. Consider yourself formally invited to contribute to this event! It's multimedia so don't feel limited to fic. Check it out on AO3 at WinnixFluffChallenge_2019.

This fic was plotted with majwinters.

Tags include: AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Anxiety, Blankets, Healthy Relationships, Wholesome Gay Content.

* * *

Dick's only been dating Lew officially for a month when he notices it. Lew is prone to bouts of restlessness and worry, and when it gets too bad, Dick will come home to find Lew buried under a pile of their heaviest blankets. It doesn't matter that he's sweating, he admits once, because it's comforting.

One night when they'd still been learning each other and mapping their bodies and boundaries, he'd rather shyly coaxed Dick into lying with his head on his chest, body half over Lew's. Dick worried he was crushing him, but Lew sighed and relaxed, and they've been lying together like that every night since.

Over dinner with his father another night, Lew seems especially sensitive, reacting badly to each subtle barb Dick knows he feels is directed at him, and he storms off halfway through the meal. Heart in his throat, Dick excuses himself. He finds Lew in the bathroom, sitting on cold tile with his knees drawn to his chest, shaking and gasping. Dick doesn't know what to say, but Lew speaks for him.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Lew manages between sharp breaths. "I can't calm down. I'm so _angry_."

"It's not like you," Dick says quietly. "I'm worried."

Lew shakes his head, breathing in a jagged gasp that makes Dick wince. He drops to the floor, sitting beside Lew, and pulls him into a hug.

"We'll get through this," he promises Lew. "Together."

* * *

A few weeks later Lew comes home with a prescription bag. Dick greets him with a kiss and he smiles shyly, fiddling with his coat.

"They're, uh, anti-anxiety pills," Lew says by way of explanation. "I've been doing talk therapy too, and it seems...nice. I think it's helping."

"I'm really glad, Lew," Dick says, pulling him into a hug. Lew reciprocates, his hands clutching the back of Dick's shirt tightly as he sags into the embrace, visibly relieved. He pulls away after a moment, managing a crooked smile.

"How's glazed salmon with wild rice for dinner?"

Dick smiles. "Sounds great."

While Lew is cooking dinner Dick gets on the computer and looks into anxiety. He remembers some things from college psychology, but he wants to be sure he's doing everything he can to help Lew. He reads several articles describing symptoms, struck by the familiarity, and finds lists detailing different methods of treatment. Dick's brow furrows as his eyes catch on the words _weighted blanket_ in one list. He copies it into the search bar and clicks on the first descriptive article he sees.

As he reads he thinks of Lew, always needing Dick's head over his heart or a pile of heavy quilts, never quite able to just lie still and sleep. Still, he pauses as he sees the suggested weight for Lew—a solid 15 pounds. It seems confining, and he isn't sure if Lew would like that.

"Dinner's ready!" Lew calls from the kitchen, and Dick frowns, bookmarking the page and closing the browser.

That night Lew pulls Dick over his chest again and he tilts his head, looking up at his lover.

"Lew?" he asks, "Is there a reason you like this?"

Lew tilts his head, brows furrowing. "Huh?"

"Having me lie on you like this," Dick clarifies. "Every night."

"Oh." Lew is quiet for a moment, thinking, and Dick listens to the steady beating of his heart. "I guess it reminds me of when I was a kid," he says finally. "My dog would lie on my chest like this every night and let me hold on to her fur. It helped me sleep."

Dick smiles. He drops a kiss to Lew's chest and settles, drifting into sleep.

* * *

In the morning Lew's pills have joined their breakfast routine, and Dick watches Lew swallow one down before attacking his omelet and toast. Dick has the day off, but Lew still has to go in, so he clears his plate quickly.

"I'll wash up," Dick volunteers, and Lew smiles.

"Thanks. See you tonight," he says, and leans in for a quick kiss. He peels away, pulling on shoes and coat and heading out briskly. Dick finishes his own breakfast in the quiet, then clears the table and does the dishes. He gets some other chores done before settling at the computer again, resuming his earlier search.

After several pages, Dick's eyes are drawn to a children's weighted blanket, printed with a patterned collage of puppies. His lips pull in a smile and he clicks on the product listing, seeing that it is six pounds, rather than 10 or 15, and just big enough to cover Lew from sternum to toe.

He deliberates for a moment, then clicks _add to cart_.

* * *

A few days before his birthday, Dick finds Lew curled up in their bed with the TV on. When he calls to Lew he gets little more than a grunt in response, and going around to see his face, he finds Lew looking drawn and tired, eyelashes dark with tears.

"Oh, Lew," he murmurs softly, sitting on the bed. He rubs a hand over the curve of Lew's shoulder.

"Sorry," Lew says, snuffling. "Took meds and everything."

"Don't be sorry," Dick demurs. "Did you eat?"

Lew nods. "A little. Not hungry, though."

Dick nods, squeezing Lew's shoulder. "Exercise?"

Lew scowls. "Tired," he huffs, and Dick chuckles.

"Okay, no exercise." He leans forward, kissing Lew's temple. "I have an idea. I'll be right back."

Dick gets up, going to the guest room closet and taking out the weighted blanket he'd bought for Lew. It'd come in a few days before and Dick had put it in a gift bag, intending to give it to Lew for his birthday, but he figures now is as good a time as any. He takes the blanket from the bag and goes back to Lew, finding him as he'd left him.

"I got you something," Dick says, and Lew looks up as he climbs onto the bed and unrolls the blanket, resting it over Lew gently. It's heavier than Dick had expected, and he watches Lew's reaction closely. Lew looks awed for a moment, then relaxed, the crease of his brow fading. He slides one hand out from underneath it, feeling the soft surface.

"Thanks, Dick," he mumbles, sincere appreciation in his tone. "It's perfect."

"I'm glad." Dick smiles, lying down alongside Lew, who seems settled, content, in a way Dick hadn't dared to dream possible. He seems to doze for a while, not asleep but not fully awake either, then sniffs and rolls over, looking at Dick. He lifts a side of the blanket.

"It'd be even better with you," he says shyly.

* * *

**Author's Note:** If, like me, you struggle with anxiety, I can wholeheartedly recommend a weighted blanket. I've recently gotten one of my own and it's kind of life-changing.


End file.
